Offerings
by SunnyCait
Summary: It's Easter Sunday and Brittany is having trouble staying awake at church... Santana has a plan to keep her attention though. - Probably only for those who are hell-bound already or at least not too sensitive to blasphemy. *cough* M for a reason.


**A/N: I am _definitely_ going to hell for this. Happy Easter anyway! Based on a prompt over at the Glee Kink Meme. I just added the Easter theme, timing and whatnot. ;) **

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><p>"It smells like old people," Brittany whispered, leaning in close to Santana so that her girlfriend was the only one who could hear her.<p>

"I know, babe," Santana answered softly, facing forward. She didn't have to look at Brittany to know her nose was wrinkled in disdain, her sense of smell affronted. "But it's only for an hour. This is the one time a year we go to church, so suck it up, please. For Jesus."

Brittany huffed, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she looked around, her head tilting up to look towards the vaulted cieling. The walls were painted an off white, which in Brittany's opinion didn't match the colorful stained glass of the highest window, depicting Jesus Christ himself kneeling, holding a lamb in his arms, his face awful sorry looking and a halo of sunlight around his head. Brittany figured he looked like that because he was hot, what with the sun directly on his head and whatnot.

Come to think of it, she was kind of hot, too. Churches were always a little muggy, and this relic of a church Santana drug her to twice a year (did Santana think she'd forget that they came for Christmas services too? The last time the pastor had been kind of rude about her suggestion of forsaking hymns for real Christmas music like _Jingle Bell Rock_) was especially bad as far as temperature control went. Then with all of these other people crowding the pews, body heat just made it worse.

She tugged at the collar of her dress, which was rather conservatively high, at Santana's insistance. Brittany found this odd because normally Santana didn't mind her wearing as little as possible and in fact usually encouraged no clothing at all, but whenever they came here they had to look "Church appropriate". She again glanced at Jesus, taking in his robe and funny looking sandals, feeling a little grateful. At least no one seemed to catch on that obviously whatever _Jesus _wore would should be considered "Church appropriate", or else they'd all be dying of a heat stroke right about now.

Turning her attention to the front of the church, the pastor shuffling notes at the pulpit, she could already feel her eyes drooping. It was just too warm in here and Santana was being all proper Christian and boring, leafing through the service's program to see which tired old hymns they would be singing today and finding them in the hymnal. Weren't there some sort of uptempo Easter songs they could sing instead? She was distracted from her boredom as she wracked her brain, finally remembering an Easter song she was sure no one would mind singing instead of the stuffy hymns.

_Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail...Hippity, hoppity, Easter's on it's way... _Yes, this was much better than anything in that dusty book sprawled across Santana's lap. Plus, rabbits are super cute, and Peter Cottontail was _hopping (_which they did to look even cuter) down a friggin' _bunny trail _(what was more awesome than a bunny sized trail?). She wondered where the bunny trail led to, and contemplated asking Santana before deciding against it, the brunette thumbing pages until she found the opening hymn and then looked forward again, the pastor obviously about to start the sermon.

Anyway why would Santana know where the bunny trail led to; she'd never even owned a pet rabbit, let alone could communicate with one to ask. And even then she'd have to have a pet rabbit who had gone down the bunny trail in the first place, which she didn't think would be too common for a domestic rabbit to do.

She started humming under her breath as the pastor began to speak, and Santana elbowed her just hard enough to bring her back to the present. Which was just not enthralling to her, the pastor's voice low and droning on and on and _on_, using words she didn't know and phrases that had no meaning to her. She looked around at her fellow church goers, and they all seemed to be enraptured in whatever he was saying, staring at him and nodding their heads occassionally.

At least he wasn't just up there talking for nothing, she guessed, if other people were agreeing with him, but as far as she was concerned, she wished they could just skip this part and get to the family dinner the Lopez family always had after Sunday's Easter service. Then there'd be an Easter egg hunt. Which meant Peeps and chocolate bunnies and gold coins and the best of the best... Cadburry Mini-eggs.

She smiled despite her surroundings but she felt Santana give her an odd look, so she quickly stopped, instead focusing her attention on the pastor like she was supposed to.

"And now, let us pray..."

Well, that was fun while it lasted. She bowed her head and then the next thing she knew she felt Santana's bony elbow in her side, a harsh whispering close to her ear as her girlfriend leaned in, waking her from her doze.

"Britt, seriously. Pretend to listen, at least!"

"I am pretending, and look where that got me. I'm sorry I just... the smell and the heat and the boring are all getting to me. Then he practically forced me to go to sleep, making me close my eyes to pray. He was asking for it," Brittany whispered back hurriedly. "I don't even want to be here."

Santana's face softened, patting her girlfriend on her knee and sighing. She knew very well how much Brittany enjoyed church; it was just about as much as she enjoyed watching Disney movies. To be fair, the blonde made her do that far more than she made her go to church, but she remembered what it was exactly that Brittany did to make sure she didn't mind watching _Snow White_ for the seventieth time. She breathed out deeply as she watched Brittany's eyes close once more, thinking to herself while Brittany fell asleep again. She was probably going to hell for this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Reaching for Brittany's leg, she shifted it onto her lap, her light blue dress draping over her own legs as well, and took a careful look at the people around them. They were sitting at the end of a pew in the back, having gotten to the church late after Brittany pitched a last ditch effort to derail their morning plans that involved her traipsing into the kitchen in nothing more than white rabbit ears. It didn't exactly work as Brittany intended, but it had been a fun Easter surprise even though they still ended up coming here, to her girlfriend's chagrin. At any rate, no one was paying them any mind, the pastor now reading a passage from the Bible, the same one he read every Easter since Santana could remember. Brittany was right, this was kind of boring.

When Brittany started to lightly snore, she made her move, discreetly sliding her hand under Brittany's dress and rubbing her upper thigh. No one could see what she was doing at a glance, not that anyone was paying attention. She traced small circles on the smooth skin of Brittany's inner thigh, slow and almost methodical. This had the desired effect, the blonde's eyes flying open in surprise. Santana said nothing in response to the confused look she was recieving from her girlfriend, still staring out in the direction of the pulpit with a small smirk on her face. So far her plan was working, Brittany's blue eyes wide as she scooted slightly closer, her left side flush with Santana's right.

She fought a giggle as she moved her hand slightly inwards, flexing her fingers as if she hadn't meant to do it, causing Brittany to wiggle slightly. The tip of Santana's index finger had brushed against her sex, and Santana's own eyes widened as she realized her girlfriend wasn't wearing any panties.

"Britt... We're in church... No underwear?" Santana whispered, still not meeting her gaze. If she made eye contact it was more likely to draw attention to them, but she couldn't help commenting.

"You should talk..." Brittany replied just as quietly, dropping her arm between their bodies and working her hand up under her own dress, lightly wrapping it around Santana's wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to keep you entertained and awake."

"Well... You're probably going to have to do better than that. He's about to start a hymn, I can tell."

Sure enough the pastor beckoned for them to open their hymnals to their first of the service, and asked that they join in. Luckily with the abundance of elderly people they weren't made to stand, and were allowed to worship through song while sitting.

Santana mumbled along, singing garbled words to the general tune of the song, which most people were screwing up anyway. Her hand underneath Brittany's dress slid further up, fingers glancing her girlfriend's core.

"You're also going to have to make up for Good Friday, which I'd like to rename "The Friday Brittany Got No Sweet Lady Kisses Because Santana Ate Fish and Brittany Hates Fish So She Didn't Want to Kiss Her"."  
>Brittany shimmied, trying to urge Santana on before the song ended. These things were always forever long, but she knew it wouldn't last now that she <em>wanted<em> it to.

"Or other things..."

"Oh please. The only person who ever got nailed on Good Friday was Jesus," Santana replied, her voice still a low tone. She was wondering when Brittany would bring up the fish thing again.

Not leaving any time for Brittany to respond, she scooted her hand closer to her apex even more, resting her hand over the blonde's soft curls and rubbing lightly. Brittany's hips pitched forward ever so slightly, a small hum in her throat. Santana almost laughed, but feeling her girlfriend in her hand was causing an ache to form between her own legs, distracting her.

"San..."

"Shh," Santana said quickly, the smirk growing on her face as she started to fake sing along again. She felt Brittany squeeze her wrist slightly, and a small amount of wetness was soon gracing the blonde's outter folds, indicating that Brittany was getting more than just turned on. Santana glanced at her face, heat rushing up her own chest and neck as she looked at Brittany, her eyes closed and lips pursed together in an effort to keep a moan from escaping.

Instead Brittany started to hum again, although it was off key and not even the right melody. Her leg not over Santana's lap slid over on the pew slightly, opening her legs for Santana, and she squeezed the brunette's wrist again.

Not needing any further translation, Santana allowed her fingertips to slide up and down Brittany's moist slit, her words becoming even more like gibberish than before, unable to concentrate as long as she knew what was under Brittany's dress, the mental image of her girlfriend's sopping center making her hot and bothered as she felt it. She quickened her strokes, hand sideways and running her fingertips through the wetness, pressing into Brittany slightly.

On an upwards swipe she stilled her hand, finding the blonde's clit and playing with it gently. Imparting an impression of a figure eight around the sensitive bundle, she felt another slew of fluid, making her movements easier and therefore, faster, gliding swiftly around and around. She paused to pinch the nub carefully, not wanting to hurt but to elicit more pleasure. Brittany again sent her hips forward almost jerkily, searching for more than what Santana was giving her.

"If you don't..."

Brittany was cut off when Santana obliged, knowing what she was going to say without her having to finish her sentence. Two of her fingers slipped inside easily, finding no friction from how wet the blonde was. She had to add a third to get the sensation she wanted, just enough resistance to cause Brittany's walls to tense around her digits.

"Sweet baby Jesus..." Brittany groaned, and Santana looked over quickly to make sure no one had noticed her outburst.

Everyone else was too swept up in the hymn, and frankly anything Brittany said like that would be quite commonplace in the church, so no one would pay her any mind. She briefly wondered if wishing for her girlfriend to express her carnal pleasure with lamentations to Jesus was earning her a VIP ticket to hell, but shook the thought off as Brittany groaned again.

She leaned over slightly to whisper to Brittany, her lips brushing the outter shell of the blonde's ear.

"If you're not quiet we're going to get caught and thrown out of this church and never be able to come back..."

This didn't sound so bad to Brittany, who was only half hearing Santana anyway, lost in the throb between her thighs. The brunette's fingers started curling inside of her, brushing that tingly-feeling spot.

"Holy mother of..."

"I'm serious!"

Brittany's face screwed up slightly but she kept her mouth shut, knowing Santana was not above stopping and leaving her soaking, probably until later that night after all the festivities for the day were over. She just couldn't wait that long, not when she was already so close. Her humming was long forgotten, her mouth almost drawn into a frown from the effort of keeping quiet.

Noting her girlfriend's aquiesce, Santana carried on, careful to control her own breathing as she brought Brittany closer and closer to her climax, though Brittany's involuntary whimpers that she was sure only she could hear were making that easier said than done. Concentrating harder on her task, Santana adjusted her hand slightly, bringing her thumb up to circle the blonde's clit as she set her thrusting fingers into a rhythmic pace. It wasn't much longer before she could feel Brittany's thighs quivering, knocking against her hand ever so lightly.

Brittany quickly turned her head to bury it into the side of Santana's neck to stifle her moans against tanned skin, the brunette's hair falling over her face to hide it from view. The last few thrusts of her girlfriend's expert fingers proved the most painstaking to downplay, and when she came, she couldn't help rocking her hips up to meet the prod of Santana's digits.

"Almost..." Santana whispered, barely audible, though Brittany didn't need _her _telling her that.

A sudden rush of pressure and then an explosive release of what she could only describe as ecstasy signaled her orgasm, which Santana helped her ride out as quietly as possible, her other hand coming to rest against her cheek, pressing the blonde's face more firmly against her neck. When it was over, Santana withdrew her fingers, wiping the result of Brittany's climax on the inside of her thighs. She then took her hand out from underneath Brittany's dress and took the hand that had been holding onto her wrist for dear life, twining their fingers together and setting it on her knee.

Without turning her head, she checked the faces around them... They all seemed oblivious to what the two lovers had just done, despite Brittany's utterances. Santana breathed a sigh of relief, not even realizing she'd been holding her breath. She pecked Brittany softly on the cheek before nuzzling her head off of her shoulder and returning her gaze to the pastor, a blush to her face.

"Now pay attention, okay Britt?" she said ever so softly, clearing her throat. When Brittany didn't reply, she checked on her girlfriend using her periphereal vision. "Britts?"

But Brittany didn't hear her, her head slumped slightly forward and eyes closed in sleep.

Sighing to herself, Santana just shook her head.

"I tried, Jesus."


End file.
